


Turning Page

by aescxs



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, dream is in prison crabrave, dreamnotfound, this prison is so sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aescxs/pseuds/aescxs
Summary: George visits Dream in prison.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	Turning Page

**Author's Note:**

> hi, just a heads-up, this is all my own head canons. hope you enjoy :D

“Welcome to the prison.”

George takes a shaky step off the nether portal and is met with Sam a few feet in front of him. He’s holding a book in his right hand.

“Thanks,” George says, a slight tremor in his voice. 

He brushes off the particles that remained on his clothes from the trip through the Nether and takes a second to take in his surroundings. The room in which he was transported was dim; very few redstone lamps illuminated the walls. There were four heavy duty doors to his left and right with the words Locker Room inscribed on spruce signs. A large black desk sat in the middle of the room in which Sam was leisurely leaning on.

“Before we begin, I have something written in this book that you need to read. Please read it aloud so I know you’ve understood it,” he states, offering the book to George.

With slight hesitation, George grabs the book and opens to the first page. After taking a long sigh, he reads it aloud. Once he finishes, Sam hands him a quill dipped in ink, and his trembling hands sign the last page.

Sam eyes the signature. “Alright, looks good. Now I need you to step in locker room number one,” he pulls a lever and one of the doors creaks open, “and deposit all of your belongings into the chest.” 

George walks into the room and the doors shut behind him with a loud bang! He pulls his chestplate over his head and neatly places it on one side of the chest along with the rest of his armor, then drops everything else on the other. 

Emptying his pockets of the last few things, he takes a minute to try and comprehend what exactly he was doing. Dream was incarcerated in this very prison; this prison that needs multiple levels of security and precautionary measures just to get to the basic holding cells, let alone the maximum security cell. The Dream he knew and loved wouldn’t do something so criminal to be confined here...would he? 

That’s not my Dream, George thinks to himself.

He knocks on the doors and waits before Sam opens them. The chest behind George seals with a loud clicking sound.

“You put away everything, right?”, Sam eyes George suspiciously, looking over his pockets for any unwarranted bulges.

George clears his throat, “Yes, sir.”

Sam leads George down hallway after hallway, having him drink potion after potion. By the fourth trial, George feels physically weak and sick to his stomach.

“That means it’s working,” Sam chuckles lightly, trying to make light of the dreaded situation. George offers him a weak smile, clutching his stomach. 

“You’re much easier to do this with than Tommy, you know. He wouldn’t stop pestering me about all these protocols,” Sam’s eyes are glistened with pity, but he quickly shifts back into warden-mode.

George gives a dry laugh, eyes glued to the floor.

This visit was the one everyone buzzed about on the SMP. Nearly everyone that cared had already taken their turn through the prison, including Sapnap. But George had put it off for weeks. They had made sure not to push him too much about it, but every once and awhile someone would ask about it, and George would be reminded of the tainted image of the Dream he once knew. News had spread quickly the night before his visit, and now they were all gathered outside the boundaries of the prison waiting for the result. This was the part he dreaded the most.

After completing the last test, they come to a large room covered with levers on every wall, each labeled with their respective roles. Sam walks over to one labeled "Main Door" and pulls it. The doorway they just came through slams shut behind them and locks with a series of clicks. At the very end of the room was an obsidian archway and on the other side, a thick wall of molten lava. George’s eyes grew wide watching the lava trickle down in an infinite motion.

Behind him, Sam pulls another lever and something behind the lava shifts and clunks.

“Please read and sign these,” Sam says, shoving another two books into George’s arms. “Just some more liability agreements you need to know about, in case something, you know, happens.”

George reads them aloud to Sam like he was told, slightly hesitating at the line “I hereby give permission for any individual to hunt me down and kill me until I am completely dead.” He shudders, but signs them and hands them back to Sam, who places them on a lectern near the entrance. The lava continues to bubble and sputter.

“Now we’re just going to wait for the lava to clear. He’ll be on the other side.”

George’s breath catches in his throat. He didn’t have to say his name because George already knew who he was talking about. It was an unspoken rule over the past few weeks to not say his name, Dream’s name, but he was never afraid. They didn’t know him like he did, they didn’t know the little things that George knew. All the things that kept Dream going and doing what he did. His Dream. His Dream was in there.

Slowly, the lava begins to fall, and George sees an obsidian box peeking over the top.

“Stand back,” Sam warns, grabbing George’s shoulder. “It likes to spill over sometimes.”

George takes a couple cautious steps back from the platform. Squinting his eyes, he tries to focus his vision on the distant room. He can see a rickety lamp hanging from the ceiling, then the walls come into sight. It’s too far to tell, but it seems like there are tally marks sloppily drawn on the dark walls with white chalk.

Then he sees him, sitting sprawled next to a cauldron and a lectern, dishevelled dirty blonde hair peeks over the lava lake. Then his eyes, his nose, his chin. George feels a lump form in his throat and tears well in his eyes.

“My Dream.”

* * *

George looks at Sam, waiting for his go-ahead. He plants his feet firmly on the stone platform, and Sam pulls a third lever. 

Nearly falling back from the momentum, George fixes his stance on the now moving floor beneath him. In front of him, Dream catches sight of George and springs to his feet. He stands on the edge of the room, toeing the lava lake before him. He’s not within earshot yet, but George can see his name on Dream’s lips, over and over again.

“Stand back!” Sam yells from behind. As if like a dog, Dream obeys immediately and takes a few steps back. Seconds after, metal bars slide in front of him, and a frown returns to his bruised face.

George’s platform reaches the obsidian room and he steps off immediately, heading towards the bars between them. The lava falls, creating a wall behind them again and the bars move out of the way. 

“G...George?” Dream says. His voice is so hoarse that it comes out a whisper. Tears begin to fall and leave marks on his dirt-stained face.

“Dream,” George replies, wiping the tears from Dream’s cheeks with his thumb and embracing him in a tight hug. He can smell the weeks of confinement in his clothes as he buries his face in his shoulder.

The embrace lasts long, long enough for them to communicate their longing for each other without words. 

Dream then grabs George’s chin and lifts it up to meet his face. He places kisses on his forehead, both of his cheeks, his chin, and a last long kiss on his lips. He smiles, and George can feel it on his skin. 

At last, they break the embrace, but still say nothing. George is rendered speechless when he finally gets a good look at Dream’s figure. His prison uniform is a dirty black jumpsuit and there’s a patch on his right breast that reads DREAM in bolded white letters. His frame has grown smaller since George last saw him, and he can tell the uniform that once was his size no longer fits him. Dream’s hands are bonded together along with his ankles with worn silver chains; he can spot bruising forming underneath the bands of metal. He’s rolled up his sleeves and there are scars littering his arms. George assumes those are from his fight with Tommy. He wasn’t there, and he couldn’t bear to listen to the story of just how hard Dream was thwarted from it.

Bringing his eyes to Dream’s face, he can see the dark, deep circles that have formed under his eyes; underneath one of them, a surprisingly fresh gash stretches from one corner to the other. He has bandages patched to his pale face, one below his jaw and another on his left cheekbone. George reaches up to touch them and Dream accompanies his hand, holding the warm appendage to his face. He leans into it, and George can see tears forming in his eyes again.

“It's so lonely here. I’ve waited for you forever, George,” Dream says. George glances at the chalked tallies on the wall.

“Do you know what I have to pass the time in here? Next to nothing. They gave me journals. That’s it,” Dream’s voice cracks at the last sentence and George’s heart drops.

“Dream, I couldn’t bear to even think about you in here. Everyone out there has moved on, thinking the problem is over and it’s so hard to watch when in the back of my head, I know that you’re suffering,” He lets his eyes drift from Dream’s face to his arms, then to his bruised and scabbed knuckles. He lets go of his cheeks and holds Dream’s hands in his.

“What did you do?” George says quietly, voice trembling. He traces his thumbs over the callouses that litter Dream’s palms.

“I’m the villain now. They got what they wanted,” Dream responds.

“Dream, you know you did some pretty bad things,” George says. “Sapnap told me everything. You took everyone’s things. Beckerson, Friend, Henry. You nearly killed Tubbo, just to get those stupid discs. Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because, George,” George hates the way he says his name, like it was poison on his tongue. “It was the only way I could get my point across.” Dream’s tears are gone now, and the somber mood leaves as quickly as it came. “I’ve been waiting for you. Where the fuck have you been?” Dream says, pulling his hands away. George winces at his words; they’re tinged with disappointment and anger.

“Dream, you don’t know how hard it's been-”

“I don’t?” Dream says throwing his chained hands in the air, gesturing to the room around him. “I’m the motherfucker that’s been stuck here!”

“Can we please not do this? I’ve missed you so much. I haven’t seen you in weeks,” George pleads, the lump in his throat returning.

He begins to get frustrated. He knows it has always been hard to defend him. Even when Dream dethroned him, he was angry, but he couldn’t stay mad. He’s tried helping Dream through these things in private, but Dream would always go and do them without thinking twice.

“I need you to calm down,” George says, and before Dream can attest, George grabs his hands once more. “It took me so long to come because even the thought of you after what happened would send me into spirals. I tried helping you, I did. You didn’t listen, and I now feel it’s partially my fault you’re in here.”

Dream sighs and the tension in his shoulders fall.

The images of Dream, the real Dream, flash in George’s head. The days they spent exploring together, collecting supplies for the projects they were excited for. The nights spent staying up late looking at the stars and pointing out oddly shaped ones, saying “That’s you” every time one was spotted. Dream’s laugh echoed with each memory. What changed from then until now?

“Break me out, George,” Dream says in a low whisper.

George snaps out of his daydream.

“What?”

“Break me out. Help me get out of here,” Dream repeats, a little more stern this time.

George lets go of his hands and takes a step back. “Dream, you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? You said yourself that you could barely think about me in here, so let’s get me out!” A manic smile spreads wide on his face and George can see the millions of ideas forming in his head.

“You...you know I can't do that,” George repeats. “I love you, but that’s almost impossible. And what you did…what you did was wrong.”

“So you’re saying I deserve this?” Dream asks, the smile slightly falling.

“No. Yes. I don’t know. But I do know that if you tried to escape we would be killed,” George responds.

He remembers the forms Sam had him read and sign beforehand, all the tasks and potions and secret hallways to get here. It wasn’t worth the risk. With this massive structure and high end security, Dream could only imagine getting out before his sentence was through. And where would they go? Almost everyone hated Dream, and if George broke him out, they would hate him too. They couldn’t stay. They’d be on the run constantly, no peace for the rest of their lives.

Then, George thinks for a moment.

His eyes grow wide and he looks up at Dream.

“Is that...is that the reason you wanted me to visit so badly?”

Immediately, large tears draw rivers down his cheeks. It all makes sense now.

Dream’s face falls and he closes the gap between them.

“George,” he says, but George shoves him in the chest.

“That’s all I’ve been to you! Someone to vouch you out of things, someone to defend you and paint you as the good guy. I never meant anything real to you, did I?” The tears sting as they roll down.

“You know that’s not true,” Dream says, his face painted with worry.

“I’ve been through so much turmoil trying to negotiate for you, but you don’t think! You just do! Do you understand how hard I’ve tried for you. For us. I never asked for anything in return,” George’s face feels hot. “What happened to the old you? When we could just mess around and not worry about the others? What changed?” 

He stares across the room at the lava that closed off the opening of the room.

Dream stands motionless, trying to find words to explain. 

After moments of silence pass, George finally says, “You know, Sapnap told me about what you said to Tommy and Tubbo in that room. He said that you let go of all your attachments so you could gain power. What were those attachments, Dream?”

George turns to Dream, who stood only a few feet behind him.

“Was it me? Was it Sapnap?”

Dream’s face reads shock.

“George, you don’t buy that, do you? I love you. Whatever I did to you, I did for the greater good of us,” Dream finally responds. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. I promise I’m trying to change, but I can’t get very far stuck in this box.”

Dream attempts to pull him in for another embrace, and George hesitantly gives in. He lays a kiss on George’s brown hair, wiping the tear streaks off his face.

“It seems crazy, I know, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Right?”

George thinks, head buried in Dream’s chest. Despite the prison uniform, he still smells like the Dream he knew before. But this isn’t that Dream.

“I’m sorry, Dream, but I just can’t trust you right now,” he responds, breaking apart.

He walks over to a large button on the wall and presses it. A buzzer within the cell goes off, beckoning for Sam.

“I need to go.”

“George, please, you’re all I have left. I can't have you against me too," Dream begs, tugging on George’s shirt so he faces him.

“You hurt me. You hurt Sapnap. I thought you would be better than this, but you still need some time before we can talk again,” George says. He swallows the lump forming in his throat. He couldn’t cry now.

"So you're saying you'll come and see me again?” Dream asks, his voice softer.

George looks at him, his green eyes glowing against the bright lava wall. Before he can answer, Sam’s voice comes buzzing over an intercom, “Dream, take a step back, please.”

He obeys, and the metal bars spring between them once again. Dream wraps his hands around them and stares with pleading eyes at George, but George is already facing the lava wall, awaiting it’s fall.

The platform arrives at the edge of the floor and George steps on, bracing for the jolt of movement. Once he’s safely to the other side, he turns to look at Dream, still clinging onto the silver metal. 

He doesn’t know when he’d come back, or if he would at all. His priorities are shifted now, and he's aware that Dream’s are too. 

The tears fall silently now.

The lava wall falls once more and George watches as his Dream disappears inch by inch.

**Author's Note:**

> lmk what you think! this is my first dnf writing piece :)


End file.
